


Cobalt Blue

by Ayulsa (execharmonious)



Category: Final Fantasy X
Genre: Other, Religious Ecstasy, Summons & Summoning Meta, magic!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:02:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/execharmonious/pseuds/Ayulsa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What really transpires between a summoner and an aeon in the Chamber of the Fayth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cobalt Blue

She knows that the hues in the chamber are many-- she's heard as much, can imagine it, the walls and statues boldly painted as a tribute to the fayth-- but from the moment she enters, all she can see is white-blue.

At least, that's what she's come to call it: the colour she sees when magic floods her, too vast and oceanic to be merely called _white_ , too brilliant and burning to be only _blue_. It crashes down on her like a wave, drowning her vision, prickling her limbs, setting her heart aflame. When she walks, now, her limbs feel heavy, as if they are made of the same stone as the fayth; yet her heart is buoyant, riding on the in-swell and out-swell of the ethereal tide.

She falls before the statue as if magnetised, pulled to her knees by hands that reach out, not unkindly, and bear her down, down, until she can hardly move. With effort, she crawls onto the fayth's tomb and prostrates herself upon it, feeling her body press into the cool, blue stone. The fayth laps at her, testing her with tendrils of magic sent out over her skin, and wherever it touches her the lines of her body blur, until she believes she is the stone itself: two of one body, ceramic-cast, frozen and glazed into an eternal embrace. Her mind goes cool, cold, colder, her thoughts sluggish and stonelike, her wildly pumping heart beginning to crystallise. The world, but for a sliver, goes dark.

If her heart could race, it would; for in that sliver, she knows this is the moment, when stone is awoken, when cobalt blue burns.

It does not come gently; it does not spare her. Her body jerks upwards as if pulled, her limbs seized, her breath hard and fast in her chest as the storm rages through her. She is lightning, she is fire, she is a conduit for disaster, every vessel and vein of her flooded to its limit, spasming in protest. She's already too full, yet lightning continues to creep in through every pore, opening pathways through her body she'd forgotten existed, until she's so much more than she's ever been; _no, it's like this every time_ , she thinks, but every time feels like the first time, obliterating her memory of the past until it is only her, the fayth, and this.

Her eyes are squeezed so tightly shut she sees white, the spasms rocking her body against the stone so that she feels like she's riding, borne aloft on the aeon's broad back. Every jolt and spark is a new leap they take, a chasm opening up beneath them, yawning and wide, yet they clear it with ease; she's thrown back into her seat, against the stone that now feels like a pelt, tiny electric-charged hairs brushing over her skin, bare beneath the robe. They burn, they scorch, but she can't help but lean into them, excruciating ecstasy making her cheeks wet with tears; she begs in her mind for it to stop, even as she wants it never to stop, this cobalt blue, these lines of light electrifying her, body, heart and soul.

When at last it does stop, and she's shaking, spent, white-blue breaths sparking in the ozone-filled air, she's almost afraid to move. Her body feels like porcelain, light and hollowed-out and liable to break, her ribs seeming to grate against each other with every breath. _Oh, let me stay here with you, Ixion, let my bones cover your tomb, bleached white against your cobalt blue_ ; but she knows she must stand. So she does, legs trembling, an aching memory between her thighs where thunder has kissed her; a reminder, she thinks with a tremorous smile, of why summoners' robes are long, running a hand over one thigh to touch the thin, fractal burns. 

Composing herself, she walks out through the door, and does her best not to faint.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a very silly prompt a friend gave me, from a packing slip included with a gift they got from a colleague:
> 
> _"White, blue and white porcelain blue and white porcelain known as the English name of Blue and White Porcelain, which is cobalt oxide containing cobalt as a raw material, painted decoration on the ceramic green body, and then cast a layer of transparent glaze, high temperature reducing flame a firing. A glaze color. After firing cobalt blue, with coloring, hair color, bright, burn rate, coloring and stability characteristics."_
> 
> _I dare someone to use this as a story prompt =P_
> 
> Another friend and I both agreed that it sounded like an Esper/Eidolon/Aeon, so I started brainstorming, and... this happened.
> 
> Also, lightning burns look like [this](http://geardiary.com/2011/06/17/meet-winston-kemp-lightning-strike-survivor-and-lichtenberg-figure-owner/).


End file.
